


no body, no crime

by shockvaluecola



Series: she thinks i did it but she just can't prove it [2]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Evil, Anal Sex, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:08:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28798875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shockvaluecola/pseuds/shockvaluecola
Summary: Quentin had expected to feel more remorse. Other people wouldn't understand, and he wished they would, but he was doing what he had to do. He was protecting himself and Eliot and their friends. The whole world. The monster had to be stopped, by any means necessary. Such a creature could not be allowed to live, and Quentin was doing what was necessary. That was all.If they had to crack a few eggs, well, the last few months had taught him that that was the name of the fucking game.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater & Julia Wicker, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Series: she thinks i did it but she just can't prove it [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2111475
Comments: 16
Kudos: 31
Collections: It Always Leads to You





	no body, no crime

**Author's Note:**

> So! This is part of the same canon divergence as "the Push thing (you know, the thing)". Like I said on that one, I may end up writing the full thing from the divergence point, but suffice to say that Quentin and Eliot stayed together after 3.05 and have led each other down a bad path.
> 
> Thank you to grimweather and IrreverentFangirl for beta-ing!

_he did it_

  


It wasn't so hard, really.

Quentin had expected to feel more remorse. Other people wouldn't understand, and he wished they would, but he was doing what he had to do. He was protecting himself and Eliot and their friends. The whole world. The monster had to be stopped, by any means necessary. Such a creature could not be allowed to live, and Quentin was doing what was necessary. That was all.

If they had to crack a few eggs, well, the last few months had taught him that that was the name of the fucking game.

"No obvious followers or alarms," Eliot observed, checking the rearview and tightening his leather-gloved hands on the steering wheel. "We might actually be getting away with it."

Quentin reached over and rubbed a hand over his knee. "Marina didn't trust anyone but herself. That was like, her _thing_ \-- she fully believed that she was all she needed. I don't think it ever even occurred to her that summoning backup if someone got past her wards might be useful."

"And you did a great job at that, baby," Eliot said, reaching over and putting his hand on the back of Quentin's neck, rubbing fingers through the base of his ponytail, making his eyelids flutter. "You were so patient, picking her wards apart."

Quentin let himself lean into the touch, soak up the affection. "Well, you did amazing at actually taking her down." Eliot smiled a little, looking pleased. Quentin reflected to himself that Marina had always been classically trained at heart -- with how Brakebills taught, the most unexpected possible play was to just walk in and break someone's neck before they got a word out.

"We're almost there," Eliot said. 

Quentin nodded and sat up as Eliot took his hand back, letting his brain function fully again. "How about I go in ahead, make sure he's asleep, and you carry her?"

Eliot heaved a dramatic sigh. "Sometimes I think you only like me for my telekinesis."

"I mean, the dick doesn't hurt," Quentin said with a grin.

  


_este's a friend of mine_

  


"Josh?"

Julia stepped carefully over broken glass. The window frame it had come from was broken too, the wall buckled a little, and she paused, spotting fur caught in the splintered wood. So it had been Josh's body thrown into this spot. 

Julia could have fixed it, but it probably didn't matter, and she should save her energy. She was getting better at remembering that this form couldn't do everything she could do as a goddess. 

She rounded the corner and just bit back a gasp. The first thing she noticed was the blood splashed everywhere. She had to grit her teeth against memories of her living room, after Reynard had gotten through with her friends. She closed her eyes, pictured a ball of light, and forced herself to take a slow breath. The coppery smell of blood was forcing its way into her senses, but this wasn't the first time. She'd been the _cause_ of it, once or twice, so it wasn't hard to push it away.

Nerves steeled, Julia opened her eyes. A man she didn't recognize -- white, solidly built, bald, wearing what had once been a leather jacket -- lay dead on the floor, not far from Josh, who was breathing, but apparently unconscious. Further away, near the other side of the room, was Marina. Quite dead, her tight ponytail was somehow intact, the tail scattered under her head. Her neck was clearly broken, blue eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling. 

Carefully, Julia stepped over Josh, taking a closer look at the injuries. One of Marina's arms was hanging on by a thread, most of her upper arm gone. Julia was sure that if she looked closer, she'd see teeth marks.

How had this happened? The Quickening was supposed to be satisfied by a death -- why were there two people here? Had the man been an associate of Marina's? Had she come upon the scene at the wrong time? Did the Quickening not work the way she thought?

It didn't matter. None of this would change the reality: two people were dead, and Josh had done it, and it wasn't his fault. Julia looked around the room, rubbing her sweaty palms against her jeans, trying to figure out where to start cleaning this up.

Josh's glasses were poking out of his shirt pocket. Julia imagined him taking a pause when he realized there was no going back, tucking his glasses safely away. This, more than anything else in this tableau of gore, nearly broke her.

Josh began to stir, and Julia rushed to his side, taking a knee next to him. "Hey, hey, you're okay," she murmured, putting her hands on his shoulders and turning him toward her, away from the room. "It's over, Josh. I've got you."

"Oh, god," he groaned, sitting up with Julia's help. "I didn't want to...I...Julia, I didn't..."

"I know," Julia said, nodding and rubbing his shoulders. "I know. It's okay. It's not your fault. Let's get you out of here, okay?"

Josh started to turn away, back toward the room, so Julia quickly cupped his cheek, turning him back to her. "Don't look, okay?" she said, nodding a little. "Whatever you remember is enough. You don't need to see it again. Yeah?"

Josh looked abjectly miserable, and nodded. He hung his head and wept.

  


_we meet up every tuesday night for dinner and a glass of wine_

  


"Okay, so here are the problems we have," Eliot said, pacing back and forth in front of his and Quentin's bed, where Quentin was sitting. "Lionel wants to kill us for taking his toy from him."

"Which is bullshit," Quentin injected, book between his knees. "I won that Push game fair and square."

"Sure," Eliot said, in the same tone you'd say 'sure' to someone who'd just insisted they were going to chug twenty beers. "Thing two: we need to charge up our stabby friend with the magic of a powerful magician, but we don't know anyone who's going to give it to us willingly."

"Who are we stabbing?"

"Jesus!" Eliot yelped, quickly turning to see where Alice had appeared in the corner. No, not Alice. Not anymore. This could never be Alice, with her hair hanging lank and tangled, no glasses, wearing Walmart sweatpants and a t-shirt that said "OK BOOMER" in bold letters. 

"Quentin," it said, plaintive. "I'm bored. What are you doing?"

"Um, researching for you," Quentin said, putting the book down and standing up, coming toward the monster with a calming hand extended.

"The research game is boring," it declared. "Let's go." 

It made a grab for Quentin, but Alice was shorter than Quentin, weaker, and he ducked back out of the way, just as Eliot said "Wait!"

The monster turned its unimpressed gaze on Eliot, who gave a twist of his wrist and produced a little baggie with some pills inside. "Have you tried ecstasy before?"

The monster wearing Alice's body tilted its head, squinting suspiciously at the baggie.

"It is like, _way_ funner than killing people, I swear. Here, look, I'll take it with you." He started opening the bag.

"Eliot," Quentin said quietly.

"It's a game, Q," Eliot said, lightly admonishing as he shook out three pills. "Games are more fun with friends, remember?"

" _You're_ not my friend," the monster accused. "You tried to kill me," it said, sulky.

"The was before I got to _know_ you," Eliot said, conciliatory. "We're gonna have so much fun together, buddy! Here, you take two and I'll take one," he said, holding out his hand with two pills to the monster. "That way, I can babysit you a little, you know? Make sure you're having fun."

"I'm not a _baby_ ," the monster said, snatching the pills.

"I know, I know," Eliot soothed. "It's just a word. Bottoms up!"

He tossed the pill in his mouth and tilted his head back, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. Quentin grit his teeth, and Eliot smiled at Alice, never taking his eyes off her. It.

Probably it was better to keep remembering that this wasn't Alice, because even if she was alive in there, the chances that they could save her were all but lost.

It looked suspicious, but when Eliot opened his mouth to prove he'd swallowed, the Alice-monster finally followed suit, crunching the pills between its teeth and apparently not caring about the taste. The monster let out a curious hum, then dropped to the ground.

"Oxycodone," Eliot explained to Quentin. "Spelled to kick in immediately. Opioids totally knock Alice on her ass."

"But you're okay?" Quentin asked, looking him over with a frown.

Eliot just laughed. "Honey, please. You've seen the kind of drugs I've taken, yes? It takes more than a Tylenol 3 to fuck me up."

"How did you know that would work with the monster in her?"

"Didn't," Eliot said, shrugging. "But it's only going to work once, so we better solve problem two fast. Because problem three:" He made an expansive gesture toward the body on the ground.

"It looks like the easiest way to get someone's magic without them giving it to you is killing them," Quentin said, tucking his hair behind his ear and sitting back down with the book. "You kill them and place it on the body quickly, within like, thirty seconds? And the...what's it called," Quentin said, flipping back to the first page.

"Stabby friend," Eliot supplied.

Quentin rolled his eyes. "That's what you called it, that's not its name."

"Well, we are literally in the room with the monster, so it's our stabby friend."

"It's not like he doesn't know it exists, he used it on Bacchus!"

"Also, you can't pronounce the name and neither can I."

"Oh my god, _fine._ Our stabby friend absorbs the magic as it leaves the magician."

"It's too bad Lionel isn't powerful enough," Eliot mused. "Could kill two birds with one stone."

"Mm," Quentin agreed, poring over the text. "Wait," he said, lifting his head. "Maybe we can. Okay, so Josh keeps talking about the Quickening, right? And it's happening soon?"

"I think so," Eliot said, looking thoughtful as he sat down. 

"So we make sure he's in a room with Lionel on the full moon. Josh doesn't rape anyone or kill himself, Lionel's out of our way."

"I don't hate it," Eliot mused. "It doesn't solve the- oh, but." Eliot cut himself off, sitting up straighter. "It can help, though. If we make sure the body of whoever we get the magic from is in there? We'd have to figure out the timing, but..."

Quentin sat up straighter too, catching on. "And we don't have to worry about, like, getting charged with murder or anything, cause it was obviously Josh, but it wasn't his fault. No one goes to jail."

"Are we absolutely sure the Quickening will get him out of responsibility for it?" Eliot asked.

Quentin shrugged. "I mean, I'd think so. But if someone has to go to jail, I'd rather it was him than us. Fillory needs us."

"I mean, Fillory's doing _okay_ ," Eliot pointed out. "High King Margo the Destroyer is killing it, with Tick out of her way."

"Fine," Quentin said, putting the book down and sliding over. " _I_ need you," he said, voice dropping a few notes as he nuzzled into Eliot's neck.

"Fair enough," Eliot agreed, grinning and tilting his head to expose his neck. "I mean, obviously Bambi needs her advisors. The concerns of a whole world have to come before one person's freedom."

"Exactly," Quentin agreed. He spent another minute there, then pulled back. "So let's figure out when the full moon is and ask Lionel to meet."

  


_este's been losing sleep_

  


A few hours later, the sun was up. Julia had gotten Josh into bed. She didn't really...sleep, anymore, the physical avatar of an actual goddess wasn't really a human body in the traditional sense so the traditional physical needs weren't really a factor. She could lie down, close her eyes, tune out so several hours passed in a blink. But she didn't have any need for it, and it wasn't the same, so she was sitting at the counter when Quentin stumbled out of his and Eliot's room.

"Hey," he said, yawning. His hair had that kinked-up quality it got when he showered and then slept on it wet, hanging long and loose around his shoulders. Julia wondered idly about the last time any of them had thought about something so mundane as a haircut. "S'there coffee?"

"Yeah. In the pot," she said, pointing vaguely in the direction as she examined Quentin from her seat.

Having suspicions and no proof was hard, she reflected as she watched Quentin get a mug. If she were the actual goddess, she could just...know, probably. See into him. Know not only what was in his heart, but what was left of him to be saved. But the actual Julia was off building worlds with Iris, or whatever the fuck gods did, and she was just an avatar. Was Quentin even _her_ best friend? Or did that title belong to Our Lady of the Tree?

"I found Josh last night," she said, raising her mug.

"Yeah?" he said, pouring coffee, then stiffened. "Oh, shit, the Quickening."

Julia narrowed her eyes.

"You're a shitty liar."

"What?" Quentin turned wide, gormless eyes on her, but Julia didn't buy it. It was just a little too affected. Fake. She'd seen him be genuinely caught off guard, and this was not what that looked like.

"What did you _do_?" she asked, accusatory.

"I didn't do anything," Quentin said, raising one hand in a gesture of peace, other hand carrying a mug. He came closer and leaned against the counter near her. "Anything Josh did last night was on Josh's own power."

Well, he'd dropped the act, at least. He met Julia's eyes, unflinching, and she knew she was right. His tone was steady, he didn't regret whatever it was, but he wasn't innocent. Probably not Eliot, either.

The lack of remorse was a lot scarier than whatever he'd done.

  


_her husband's acting different and it smells like infidelity_

  


"Okay," Quentin said, nodding once Marina was set down. Josh was safely out, but Quentin had cast a sound-sleeping spell on him, just to make sure he stayed down. Not good to use too often, but it would wear off.

"Okay, are we done? Come on, let's go," Eliot said, reaching for Quentin's hand.

"We're not done," Quentin said, pulling away. "Look at Lionel and look at Marina."

It didn't take Eliot long to notice that Lionel was essentially dismembered, and Marina was pretty much pristine. "Okay, good point. Suggestions?"

"Let's start with a few bites and...jesus, this is gonna be gross, but just, chunks taken out, you know?" he said, taking his gloves off. "I've got something that can do claw marks." Quentin began to construct the spell, spacing the claws just a little further apart than human fingers could do comfortably. Eliot nodded and began his own spell.

"She's not gonna bleed," Quentin said, frowning in concentration as he set the spell in place, holding onto it like brass knuckles. "So we're going to need to pull blood out of her some other way, get it on her clothes and around the room some." He brought his hand down sharply, a motion like slashing across Marina's chest, and her clothes tore, wounds opening up. "If I get an artery somewhere do you know a suction spell or something?"

"Try that spell for getting liquids out of clothing," Eliot said, distracted. " _Dirumpo_!"

A blast came from Eliot's hands, taking a chunk out of Marina's arm and knocking both of them back on their asses with a sound like a thunderclap.

Quentin stayed absolutely still, not daring to breathe, tense and listening for any evidence that someone had heard or was coming. Seconds ticked by, and Eliot's breathing began to sound labored.

Immediately, Quentin turned toward him, consequences be damned. "El, talk to me, what's wrong? Are you okay, are you hurt? Did you hit your...Eliot, are you _fucking laughing_?"

"I'm sorry," Eliot wheezed, and a more recognizable fit of giggles erupted. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's not funny, Quentin, oh my god."

Quentin punched him in the arm, probably hurting his hand more than the arm, but he could feel a giggle rising too. "Will you get it the fuck together?"

Eliot wheezed, doing his best to compose himself, which really wasn't very good. Quentin rolled over and kissed him hard, figuring that was about the least funny thing he could do.

"Oh," Eliot purred when he pulled back. "Hello."

He tried to go in for another kiss, but Quentin turned his head and gave him the cheek. "Come on, we've got to get this done. Someone's gonna come looking for Josh any minute."

Eliot heaved a dramatic sigh. "My practical boy," he murmured, tucking a strand of hair back behind Quentin's ear. Quentin resisted the temptation for just one more kiss and pushed himself up, starting to put the claw spell together again.

"You can fuck me as hard as you want once we're out of here," he said, frowning in concentration.

"Oh baby, I _am_ taking that as a promise."

  


_she says "that ain't my merlot on his mouth"_

  


"How could you...how could you _do_ that to him?" Julia demanded, peripherally aware that she was raising her voice and not giving a shit. "Have you _met_ Josh? In-- _any_ universe, he would rather have killed himself than someone else, and he just killed not one but two people!"

"Yes," Quentin said calmly. "Bad people. I feel bad for Josh, he got a shit deal, but that's not my fault, and I'm glad he didn't hurt anyone worth caring about."

He was using that quiet, harassed tone he got when he had to deal with his mother or a cell phone company. So that was how he was seeing this conversation -- an irritation, worth his ire but ultimately not his care. 

"Josh doesn't _care_ if they were bad, Q," Julia said, feeling her heart breaking in her chest. "He's never gonna be the same after this. If you had _anything_ to do with it-"

"What?" Quentin snapped, cutting her off. "If I had anything to do with it then _what_ , Julia?"

It was a challenge and a dare, and a warning, his eyes fierce as he stared her down. Julia didn't flinch.

"Then you have to tell him," she said simply. "He has to know he was set up, that it wasn't his fault."

Quentin just scoffed, turning away. "What, and let him hate me to make himself feel better?"

"You fucking deserve it, Quentin," she said, low and dangerous.

Quentin turned back toward her, putting his cup down on the edge of the counter. "You're not even here," he said. "You, the thing I'm talking to, is a fucking...a golem, a shadow, a...clod of dirt that gets to walk around. So I don't think you get to tell me what I deserve, actually."

 _"that ain't my jewelry on our joint account"_  
Bloody and exhilarated, they stumbled out of the room, and Eliot pinned Quentin to the wall, kissing him hard. His hands found Quentin's and pushed them up over his head, pinning them like something out of Fifty Shades. 

"Your hands, god, El," Quentin gasped, then gave another biting, desperate kiss, trying to devour Eliot whole.

"Are you kidding me?" Eliot murmured when they broke apart. "Your fucking _voice_ , the way you sound doing magic could be porn," he breathed, sliding one hand down Quentin's arm. The other stayed pinning him while this hand came to cup his jaw, a thumb brushing over Quentin's lips and then pressing inside for Quentin to happily suck on. It tasted of Marina's blood, which only turned him on more.

"Down boy," Eliot purred, like he wasn't the one who'd fucking pinned Quentin to this wall. "Sun's almost up."

Josh was going to wake up, and someone was going to find all this. They didn't want to be here for that. Quentin nodded and reluctantly spat that thumb out.

Eliot bullied him out of the building and into the car, staying so close that it was hard not to trip over him. They managed it, though, and Eliot had the car moving as soon as Quentin had shut his door, driving fast and taking a couple of turns before slowing down.

"Any tails?" Eliot asked, glancing in the rearview.

"No, we're good," Quentin said, checking through the window of his fingers, just in case.

"Good," Eliot said, and pulled into the entrance to a parking garage. A lift of his finger flung the entry gate upwards, and Eliot careened into a space near the entrance that was marked "building manager only." Quick and businesslike, he got out, slammed his door shut, and opened the back door.

Quentin got the idea and got out to do the same, the two of them meeting in the middle of the backseat. Eliot's mouth met his with force, teeth clacking together, hand going to the back of his neck and gripping in that way that made Quentin's whole body go liquid. Eliot's tongue thrust into his mouth, plunging deep and drawing a little sound out of Quentin, as little as he wanted to draw attention to them here.

Eliot's hand squeezing his nape tightly drove the thought from his mind, and Eliot pulled back enough to growl against his mouth. "Take your _fucking_ pants off."

Quentin retreated to his half of the backseat to obey, fumbling at his belt, kicking one of his sneakers off so his pants could get off over that foot without delay. He felt frantic, all the energy of what they'd done in that room with a sleeping Josh was catching up to him and narrowing in focus, making him need Eliot inside him like he needed air. Next to him, Eliot had shifted to the middle of the seat and had his massive cock out, stroking it fast, getting himself hard. Quentin swore and swung himself over into Eliot's lap, straddling him, jeans and boxers still hanging off one ankle. Eliot grinned up at him, and Quentin watched his bloodied hands as they started to trace out the prep spell. 

Quentin didn't really love this spell. It was kind of overwhelming, and it hurt some, not in a good way. But getting on Eliot's dick was more important than discomfort, so he muttered the spell along with Eliot, looking down at the hand moving against his stomach. He gasped when the spell took hold, suddenly loosening and slicking him. He flinched, biting his lip, and pushed up close to Eliot, a little desperate to get him inside, make the pain go away.

"Shhh, I've got you," Eliot murmured, grabbing his hips and guiding him to the right place, helping him slide down with a sigh. "There you go. Just needed a big cock up that needy hole, huh?"

Quentin shivered and nodded, grabbing hold of Eliot's shoulders and starting to move, riding him hard right from the start. He wasn't completely hard yet, they'd gotten here so fast, but he knew he was gonna get there, and Eliot wouldn't leave him hanging -- one way or another, they were both getting off.

"Good boy," Eliot breathed, staring down at where they were joined like a schoolboy getting a glimpse of porn, mouth open, eyes bright, brows focused. "Slow down."

"No," Quentin whispered back, riding a little harder. "Don't wanna get caught."

"I _said_ ," Eliot said, grabbing his hips hard enough to bruise, "slow _down._ " He dragged Quentin into a slower pace, his inexorable grip on Quentin's hips keeping him right where he wanted. Quentin felt a hot flush of embarrassment rise up in his face and send a bolt up his cock, drawing a desperate sound out of his throat.

"You can't pretend with me," Eliot murmured, running a hand up Quentin's chest to wrap around his throat. "You can fool someone else, but not me. I know you'd fucking love it if we got caught, letting someone else see how needy you are for my cock. Little slut," Eliot sneered, and Quentin whined, pressing into the hand on his throat, the threat of it. His hand was still a little tacky with blood.

"For you," Quentin breathed out, closing his eyes and no longer fighting Eliot's control. "Only get like this for you."

A low sound. "Say it again."

"Only get like this for you," Quentin moaned again, louder. "Want your hands on me all the time, fuck, El. No one else...as good as..."

Before he could force the rest out, Eliot was tipping him backwards. If Quentin were thinner -- a _lot_ thinner -- his back might have hit the center console, and his head hit the gear shift. Instead, he got to about a forty-five degree angle and his ribcage wedged hard between the front seats, Eliot now driving up into him. Quentin had to hold onto the backs of the seats for any stability at all, bracing against Eliot trying to force him further down, which meant he had no leverage for anything in particular. All he could really do was let Eliot fuck into him from below from the odd half-crouch he was in now, one hand around the back of his neck, one hand pinning his to the driver's seat.

"You look so fucking good," Eliot told him, low and growly in a way that lit Quentin's blood on fire. "Letting me fuck you. Letting me have you like this."

Quentin closed his eyes and settled his weight a little, letting Eliot hold him up with the hand on his neck. "I don't need anyone but you," he murmured, half to himself, too quiet to really sound like a thought meant for sharing. "No one else. Just us."

He didn't say it, but they were both thinking it -- _like the mosaic. Like before._

"I know, baby," Eliot murmured, his voice gone terribly soft. "I need you, too. No one else."

Quentin breathed out some tension, and Eliot fucked him harder. "Gonna come for me?" Eliot asked, low and growly again. "Gonna come on my cock like a good boy?"

Quentin nodded desperately, wishing he could touch himself, but his hands were occupied and he knew he didn't need it. "Wanna, El, El, _Eliot_ ," he whimpered. Eliot shifted and angled up against him just right, and Quentin cried out, coming all over his t-shirt and making a mess. With a bitten-off groan, Eliot followed, hips snapping up hard against Quentin's ass. They both just stayed like that for a moment, panting.

A car drove past the entrance to the garage.

  


_no there ain't no doubt, i think i'm gonna call him out_

  


Julia remembered the tail lights of the car that had been pulling away as she'd pulled up to the abandoned offices where Josh was last night. The question, really, was where they'd gotten a car. Surely Eliot had been driving, Quentin had never learned, putting it off and off when they were in high school. They lived in New Jersey, anyway, the bus went everywhere. Where was Eliot from? Could be almost anywhere, really, driving was a necessary skill in most of the country.

None of it mattered. Maybe that hadn't even been them, maybe they'd been there hours before. Julia didn't need to logic out what she already knew.

"Find me when you want to...get better, Q," Julia said, shaking her head as she picked up her coat. "When you want to be you again, and not whatever the fuck Eliot's made you."

Quentin considered telling her that whatever Eliot had made him, Quentin had made Eliot into just as much. But he wasn't sure she deserved any explanations from him.

"Okay," he said instead. "Bye."

Julia gave him a look of heartbreak, and didn't say anything more. Eliot came out of their room just as she swept out of the apartment, already looking impeccable and ready for the day. He looked quizzically after the slamming door.

"Where's Julia going?"

"Out of our way."

Eliot looked at him, and Quentin looked back. Eliot seemed to get it, a brief flash of sympathy crossing his face and quickly settling into calm acceptance. He nodded once.

"It's fine," Quentin said, taking another sip of his coffee. "We don't need her anyway."

Eliot took a step toward him, but before he could get there, a door opened, drawing both of their attention. Josh was standing in the doorway to his room, looking like he'd just been through a tornado.

"Hey, man," Quentin said softly, putting down his mug on the counter. "How are you feeling?"

Both of them approached him, and Josh flinched back, retreating into the room. Eliot held out a hand to stop Quentin, then held both hands out to Josh.

"Hey, it's okay. You should be in bed, Josh. You had a rough night."

A bitter laugh sounded wrong in Josh's voice. "Yeah, you can say that again." Quentin grimaced and approached again, slowly. "No!" Josh exclaimed, jerking back again. "I could still be...I could..."

"The Quickening is over, Josh," Quentin said gently. "You satisfied it."

"I didn't...I didn't even _know _that guy! What if he was, like, some philanthropist? Oh, god, what if he had _kids_?"__

__"Josh," Quentin said, gentle but firm. "They were bad people, okay? You didn't hurt anyone good, and there are no new orphans today."_ _

__"They??" Josh looked up at him with alarm as Quentin reached him, putting a hand on his arm. "Oh, god, there was more than _one_? I didn't remember...I don't..." Josh was shaking his head, brows drawn in, trying so hard to make sense of it._ _

__Josh looked up at Quentin, pleading for answers. Quentin just glanced back and exchanged a significant look with Eliot._ _

__"You don't need to worry about that right now," Eliot said gently, coming forward to put a hand on his other shoulder. "Let's get you back in bed, okay? You need rest and water right now, you'll be right as rain in a day or two, it's just like a hangover."_ _

__Josh laughed bitterly again. "Right as rain. Right," he said, turning back toward his bed._ _

__Eliot went and retrieved him a couple bottles of water, while Quentin coaxed him back into bed. They left him inside, closing his door gently._ _

__"Okay," Quentin said, sighing. "Let me get some pants on and we'll go find Alice."_ _

__"Kady's with her," Eliot said. "Looking for information about gods and where to find them."_ _

__"Perfect." Quentin leaned up for a kiss, then went to their bedroom. He came out a couple of minutes later, having added jeans, a hoodie, sneakers, and the magical object in his hand, now charged up with Marina's magic. It looked like some sort of futuristic car battery, a metal ball with bands around it suspended in space within a glass cube._ _

__"You know, she's kind of pretty," Eliot mused, looking at the swirls that moved in the metal and along the surfaces of the cube. "Dark but elegant, sort of thing."_ _

__"It worked. That's all I care about. Let's go."_ _

  


_no, there ain't no doubt. somebody's gotta catch him out._


End file.
